A Fall of Water (26 page)

Beatrice asked, “What changed?”

“We grew tired of empire. All of us had ruled for thousands of years, sometimes as gods, but humanity was growing stronger, more sophisticated. They were becoming more interesting to us, and the age of the immortal empire began to wane. Zhang was first. His hoard dispersed and he parted company with his child—your friend, Tenzin—and retreated to form the council of the Eight Immortals in Penglai Island. Saba… well, Saba hadn’t ruled in any real sense for ages. She just retreated farther into the mountains. I gladly let my people fracture as they had wanted for years. Wind immortals never really take to any kind of central government.”

“And what of Kato and Arosh?” Giovanni asked.

“They held out the longest, but finally, your grand-sire traveled to his great rival and they met. I don’t know what they spoke of, but I think they both must have realized what we had was passing. Human thought and development had reached the point where they had become more than ragged bands of hunters and gatherers. Civilizations were beginning to flourish. Observing them had become more interesting than ruling them.”

Giovanni cocked his head. “And you expect me to believe they just gave up this great power you speak of?”

“In a way, it was a relief. To give up the burden of rule and to sink into a more leisurely life. We all had our pursuits and, as centuries passed, the four of us came to a kind of understanding. A camaraderie of those who understood what it had once been to be a god.” Ziri’s black eyes twinkled. “Not many understand what that once meant. Arosh and Kato became very good friends, over the years. Their legends passed into our own peculiar history, but few remembered the particulars. None of us wanted to.”

“But they were supposed to be dead. My father said that Arosh was the one who had killed Kato, and in doing so, killed himself. So how is it that you say they are living?”

Carwyn broke in. “Start at the beginning of the tale, Ziri. You must go back to Kufa.”

Ziri nodded. “Of course. As I was saying, humanity had become interesting. There were periods of great enlightenment, often followed by periods of ignorance and destruction, but thoughts were changing. Kufa, in the eighth century, was in the heart of the Islamic Golden Age. There was a wonderful confluence of thought and technology. Theology and philosophy. Arosh had been living there for many years. He was Persian, but had been intrigued by the new ideas. Kato joined him. Eventually, we were all drawn there, and we spent a century watching the region flourish.”

“When did you meet Geber? Was Arosh the “dear friend” he wrote of in his journals?”

Ziri smiled. “We knew him as Jabir, but yes, Arosh and the alchemist had become very good friends. They enjoyed debating science and faith. And Jabir was so bright for a human, eventually Kato joined them in their discussions and the three of them became very close. The idea of the elixir was born from their friendship.”

“Who thought of it first?” Beatrice asked in a quiet voice.

“It was Jabir’s idea, though we all latched onto it very quickly. He was fascinated by how we could heal, particularly if we shared blood, which the four of us did freely.”

Carwyn smirked. “You must have been… very close.”

Ziri shrugged. “As I said, there are few who understand each other as we did. It was, and still is, a kind of intimacy that extends beyond the understanding of most humans or even younger immortals. We gave no thought to sharing blood in order to nurture that.”

“But Geber—
Jabir
noticed it?” Giovanni asked.

“He was fascinated by the science of us. By the properties of our blood and what it could mean. He was the one who wanted to stabilize it for human use.”

Beatrice shook her head. “And you all agreed? Didn’t you have any reservations?”

Ziri shrugged. “Not many. We all had our own reasons for wanting it. Saba thought it could be used to heal humans. She has always been a healer. Arosh thought that somehow it could be used to conquer bloodlust and grant him independence from needing humanity, even as food. Kato had taken a lover who refused to turn, though he was very attached to the young man. He hoped to make him immortal with it.”

“And what of you?” Giovanni asked him. “What was your agenda, Ziri?”

“I was curious,” he said.

Beatrice said, “Curious?”

The old wind vampire chuckled. “I believe that it is not a condition you are unfamiliar with, Beatrice De Novo.”

Giovanni pinched her waist and smiled. “No, indeed not.” He pulled her under his arm and turned his attention back to the story. “So, you all agreed to help Geber in his research. And you were successful?”

“That, I’m sure we can all agree, is debatable. Jabir
did
stabilize the blood. It took years, but the formula appeared to work. He had tried it on several servants who were diseased and it had proven to be useful for healing. As for the bloodlust, we weren’t as certain. And we were all very cautious. It was your grand-sire”—Ziri nodded toward Giovanni—“who eventually tried it. His lover, a very kind and loving young man, was ill. A wasting disease, probably some kind of cancer. But it was spreading and Kato became… strangely emotional. He forced his lover to take the elixir, then drank from him. He said if the young man did not live, that he did not care to, either. It was shocking to us, to risk himself for a mortal, but it was his choice, after all.”

All three vampires were riveted on the old immortal as he spoke. “And then what happened?” Beatrice said.

“We thought it was a success. The young man, Fadhil, grew strong again. Kato drank his blood and claimed to need no more. He claimed he was no longer thirsty. That he no longer felt the pull of hunger or the burn in his throat.”

Carwyn asked, “So why didn’t you all try it? If it appeared to be a success, why not?”

Ziri cocked an eyebrow. “Kato was in love with this human. In raptures over the possibility that his lover could live forever, and he would no longer have to feed from humans. The best of all worlds. No sacrifice. No trade-off. The rest of us… we were more cautious. I wanted to give it time. Perhaps, I thought, in one hundred years, if the human was still living, perhaps then I would try it. I left shortly after the initial tests. I was bored in Kufa and needed to travel.”

Giovanni said, “But how did it end? Why did you deceive the world about Kato? What happened to him?”

“I received a message from Saba a few years later. She did not say much, only that Arosh and Kato had gone away. That she was taking Geber’s research for further study and that I should not try to replicate it or drink from any human that had taken the elixir. She said—and this is how I know it is very dangerous—that she had
killed
all those who had been test subjects. There were dangers. She said that Arosh had asked her to spread the word that he and Kato had killed each other, and she wanted my help in spreading the rumors.”

“And you agreed?” Giovanni was angry. “Without asking for more information? Without confirming—”

“What would I confirm?” Ziri broke in. “Who would I ask? Saba only tells you what she wants you to know. Arosh? I had no idea where he was at the time. And, most importantly, I trusted my friend. If Saba said this was necessary, then it was. We had been friends, the four of us, for thousands of years. If she asked me to spread this rumor, it was for Arosh and Kato’s protection.”

Giovanni stood and paced. He was angry with the vague picture that Ziri had painted. Angry that he knew so much…
but still not enough
. Why did Lorenzo and Livia want this elixir? No one even truly knew what it did.

Beatrice said, “Well, if it did to Kato what it’s doing to Lucien—”

“Lucien?” He spun toward her. “Lucien who?”

“The Thracian, Gio,” Carwyn said gently. “Tenzin found him in Bulgaria. He’s drunk from an elixired human and there’s something very wrong. Whatever is happening to him seems to be weakening him dangerously.”

Giovanni looked at Beatrice. “What has happened while I was gone?”

She looked embarrassed. “Well, I was going to fill you in, but… two days, you know?”

He couldn’t argue with her. Catching up on news hadn’t even crossed his mind. He heard Carwyn snort as Giovanni sat next to her and pulled her onto his lap.

Carwyn muttered, “Haven’t you two done anything besides shag this entire time?”

Giovanni shot him a look. “Two days.”

“Fine, but yes, since you didn’t know, Lucien Thrax is staying at the Rome house, and he’s not well. Tenzin is with one of the Chinese delegations. You and I are going to go off looking for two supposedly dead vampires so we have some sort of proof that Livia is trying to… whatever she’s trying to do. And your wife and Ziri are going back to Rome to keep an eye on the court and find out if Livia actually has any of the elixir like the rumors are claiming.”

Giovanni could think of a dozen objections to that plan immediately, but there was one question his brain couldn’t file away. He turned back to Ziri. “How did my father get this book? I thought Saba had taken it, so how did it come to be in Andros’s possession?”

“Your guess is as good as mine. I had met your father a few times while I was spending time with Kato. They weren’t close, you know. Kato regretted turning Andros, though he never said so directly. He thought Andros was too greedy for power and knowledge. Your father was a voracious book collector, but not out of any altruistic reasons. He was greedy for knowledge, but he stored it away like he was stealing secrets. And he had become obsessed with creating the perfect vampire. A foolish quest—what interest is there in perfection? The next time I saw him was during the Renaissance.” He smiled at Giovanni. “You probably don’t remember, Jacopo. You were quite young, but I met him in Rome during the Giovanni Pico debates. I was there to meet with your uncle, but I remember you, as well.”

Carwyn bolted up. “What? That was your uncle? I always thought that was you!”

Beatrice said, “I figured that out when I was human, Carwyn. What makes you so slow?”

He sat back with a sulky look on his face. “I just don’t choose to be nosey, unlike some people.”

“Both of you, stop,” Giovanni said. “So you were watching the debates in Rome and you met Andros there? I remember him being there. He was trailing after my uncle at the time, though I didn’t understand why until later.”

Ziri nodded. “Yes, I met him there. He had acquired the majority of your father’s books after his ‘death’ and had some questions. He knew Kato and I were friends, so he was cautious. But I could tell from his questions that he had somehow laid his hands on Geber’s research. He was too curious. He would not let the subject go. It was at that point that I knew I would have to kill him and get the books back. I left Rome and went to seek Saba. I needed to know what she did.”

The air had left Giovanni’s lungs. “So… you would have killed Andros? And taken the book?”

Ziri’s eyes drifted to the fire. “By the time I returned from Africa, years had passed. I had met with Saba and we were both in agreement. Though she claimed to have no idea where Andros acquired the book, she did not tell me what she had done with it. She did tell me where I could find Arosh and Kato if I felt like I needed their permission to kill Andros. I did not go. From talking with her, I knew Andros could not live. This knowledge
had
to remain a secret.” He looked up and met Giovanni’s gaze. “Imagine my surprise when I returned to Italy to find that a young immortal had done the job for me.”

Carwyn sighed. “So it’s true?”

Giovanni turned to his friend. “My father was not who people thought he was. He was—”

“Hold, Gio.” Carwyn held up his hands. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I know it’s not something you would have done lightly.”

Giovanni turned back to Ziri. “How did you know? How did you know that it wasn’t an accident? A robbery, as we claimed?”

Ziri smiled. “Because I recognized
you
, my friend. I recognized the boy who had grown into a man and then been transformed into one of us. I remembered the bright child and I heard about your uncle’s death. I could guess what had happened. Andros had finally made himself the perfect child. And that child was so perfect, he knew that his sire needed to be burned from the earth. So I say,
well done,
Giovanni Vecchio.”

Guilt still burned in Giovanni’s chest and anger toward the placid immortal who seemed so detached, but Beatrice rubbed his thigh comfortingly. “And the book?” she asked. “Geber’s research?”

“The fires,” Giovanni murmured in understanding. “You thought as I did.”

“Everyone knew that the library of Niccolo Andros had been scattered. Some books burned in Savonarola's fires. Others lost or destroyed… I had no reason to think that Andros had shared the information with anyone. Whom did he trust besides himself?”

Giovanni’s mouth was a grim line. “No one.”

“No one.” Ziri nodded. “And until Stephen found the books, I doubt Lorenzo knew what he had, either. They were artifacts to him. But when Stephen found them, Lorenzo took a closer look. And, as your father learned, he found something quite unique.”

Now, it was Beatrice who spoke. “You never told me how you found my father.”

“Tywyll the water vampire is an old, old friend. I have used him for information many times in my travels. He is old as Arosh or Kato or any of us, though he’s always preferred the solitude of his British rivers and his dirty pubs. When Stephen came to him to exchange gold for safe passage, he recognized what your father had. He did not know the whole of it, but he must have remembered our work in Kufa. I had told him about the time I’d spent there, though I never told him why. He put the pieces together and contacted me. I told him… enough. He wasn’t very curious, but he wanted me to help Stephen.”

Ziri turned to Beatrice. “I will not lie to you. My initial intention was to find your father, kill him, and destroy the book. But I became interested in his mind. In his research. I thought… why not another? Perhaps another could succeed where we had failed? Perhaps this search had not been in vain. So, instead of killing him, I watched him. I protected him.” Ziri leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. His face was carefully blank. “I suppose, in the end, I was still curious.”